


you find your way back down [and I'll keep the area clear]

by aeriamamaduck



Series: The Next Level of Life and Love [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Body Positivity, Body Worship, Communication, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Kissing, Love, M/M, Music, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 17:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10769049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriamamaduck/pseuds/aeriamamaduck
Summary: Yuuri felt as if he were looking at a mirror, watching it all unfold. How many times had he wanted to violently shake himself after a hard fall, knowing it was his tumultuous thoughts making him flub his jumps? How many times had he gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep going no matter how much each failure hurt physically and mentally? How many times had he marched back home after such days and had a long cry in the shower as his legs trembled and his aching feet throbbed?





	you find your way back down [and I'll keep the area clear]

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Clear the Area" by Imogen Heap.
> 
> Let’s just assume all of my post-canon fics up until now have been set BEFORE Yuri!!! On Stage funtimes happened xD

Yuuri fidgeted with his ring as he observed Victor with nearly as much fascination as when he saw tears fall from his eyes in Barcelona, along with a healthy dose of worry. 

They were the only ones left in the rink, and Yuuri had noticed a few things as the afternoon passed, and he was sure everyone else had too. In the first place his skating was slightly clumsy, his hand touching ice more than once. Yakov had thrown criticism after criticism, but Victor hadn’t responded with any of his usual light-hearted banter. He’d brushed himself off, eyes narrowed with irritation as he got back on track.

Then Victor seemed to start moving in slow motion, his usual brisk movements utterly absent as he made his way to the showers with barely a look at either of the Yuris when he passed them. He’d sat down on one of the benches and spent long moments staring at his skates before beginning to unlace them, his eyes tired and movements unfocused before coming to a long pause and then starting up again.

Yuuri felt as if he were looking at a mirror, watching it all unfold. How many times had he wanted to violently shake himself after a hard fall, knowing it was his tumultuous thoughts making him flub his jumps? How many times had he gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep going no matter how much each failure hurt physically and mentally? How many times had he marched back home after such days and had a long cry in the shower as his legs trembled and his aching feet throbbed?

How many times had he lain in bed on his days off, his heart heavy and his limbs unwilling to carry him through the day no matter what activity Phichit tempted him with?

He took his shower quickly, thinking Victor would probably want to get home as fast as possible to try and get over a difficult day. _What do I say to him?_ Yuuri thought as he rubbed his eyes beneath the stream of water. _I don’t want to make it worse. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk, or maybe he’s waiting for me to talk to him, or…_

Dry and dressed he still didn’t have an answer, and he found himself sitting in the locker room nervously scrolling through feeds he barely paid any mind to as Victor’s shower took a little longer than usual. Minutes later Yuuri felt a bit of his tension roll away when he heard the water shut off, and distracted himself a little longer with Phichit’s newer videos until Victor emerged, still looking exhausted rather than refreshed.

Yuuri got up immediately, his left hand flying to his right, rolling his ring over his finger in a nervous and repetitive motion.

Victor looked at him in surprise and glanced around them. “…Are we the only ones here?”

He sounded so bewildered. Yuuri knew that if Victor were his usual self he would’ve probably suggested they take advantage of their solitude, all while dropping the towel before moving to grope Yuuri or something equally scandalous. But no, it was a simple question borne out of honest surprise. “Yeah,” Yuuri replied, still fidgeting with his ring.

“Damn,” Victor swore softly, making his way to his locker and retrieving his change of clothes. Yuuri bit the inside of his cheek and sat down again, trying to not seem worried or impatient as he listened to Victor dress in brusque motions. He couldn’t keep from staring after a minute or so, finding steely irritation in Victor’s eyes, something he’d only seen a few times before when Yuuri was having a particularly hard time with a jump. 

Dread settled into his stomach as the multitude of possibilities flew through his mind. Maybe Victor was mad at him for some reason. Yuuri quickly thought of anything he may have done that day that could have caused offense, but nothing really came to mind. _Or it’s not me_ , a rational part of his mind supplied. _He’d tell me if it was, right?_

Yuuri made sure to turn the lights off and make sure nothing was amiss in the rink with a brief glance before following Victor out. Neither of them said a word, even though Yuuri would usually listen to a list of suggestions for the next day’s training and what to expect in the coming season. He was glad to see that Victor didn’t look annoyed, but the look of exhaustion remained. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and Yuuri wasn’t sure if Victor would welcome him looping his arm through his.

Even when they got home and Makkachin bounded towards them excitedly, Victor could only muster up a half-hearted smile and brief scratch on the top of his dog’s head before getting back to taking off his coat and shoes. He headed to the couch and sat down with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. Yuuri stared after him before responding to Makkachin’s worried little whine with a proper pat down, letting the dog lick at his face to reassure them both. He let Makkachin go and watched the poodle jump onto the sofa next to Victor, who murmured soft endearments in Russian.

Yuuri took his time, taking care to feed Makkachin before heading to their bedroom to cover his face with his hands and try to gather his thoughts. He wasn’t a weak person. Hadn’t he set out to prove that time and time again? He could help Victor through whatever bothered him and not let him stew in it for hours or days. Yuuri knew well how draining even lying down could be, waiting for some other emotion to spark in his heart, anything to get back on the ice without resentment.

A bark made him take his hands from his face, and Yuuri saw Makkachin sitting on the threshold, dark eyes looking at him expectantly. Yuuri smiled at the thought of the dog dragging him back out by the arm. “Alright, Makka. I’m coming.”

_I can do this. I can listen to him and help._

He walked back out to find Victor lying down on the sofa, eyes fixed on the ceiling, never moving as Yuuri approached silently to the front of the couch and knelt near Victor’s head. The older man turned and gave him a look of slight surprise.

He looked so bare and vulnerable that Yuuri couldn’t help but slowly reach over to stroke his bangs back in what he hoped was a soothing motion. “…Do you want to talk?” he asked, not knowing how else to begin.

“Talk about what?” came the soft reply, without any true curiosity.

“Whatever you want,” Yuuri said, realizing just how foolish he sounded but he had to start somewhere.

Apparently it was the wrong approach, because Victor’s gaze slid away to a spot beyond Yuuri’s shoulder. The ensuing silence struck at Yuuri’s heart painfully, and he blinked away the burning in his eyes as he asked, “Did I do something wrong, Victor? Whatever it is, I’ll fix it! You know I will!”

_Please look at me. Tell me everything’s going to be okay. Tell me if I did something bad._

That seemed to draw Victor from his stupor, eyes widening slightly at the sound of Yuuri’s distress. He sat up and turned to pull the younger man up to sit beside him, taking his face in his hands as he explained, “Yuuri, no. It’s not you, I swear, sweetheart. It’s just…” He trailed off, hands falling from Yuuri’s face and gaze becoming unfocused again. Yuuri stayed quiet, heart close to leaping out of his chest as he waited for Victor to continue. “I’m supposed to be fine now,” he finally said in defeated tones. 

“What do you mean?”

Victor exhaled heavily and Yuuri glanced down and noticed him fidgeting with his own ring, rolling it over already reddened skin. “You know that…that heavy feeling in your heart that just…spreads to your arms and legs and your head? And it doesn’t let you move? It makes you just want to lie down and not think? To not want to do the things you usually love doing?”

Yuuri nodded slowly, knowing just what Victor meant and a little sad that the older skater knew it so intimately. “Yeah, I do…I know from experience that it doesn’t go away so easily.”

Victor seemed to process this for a few long moments and sat back on the couch, looking at his hands on his lap before continuing, “Before I went to coach you, skating became a chore. It was the greatest love of my life and I started to resent it after so long.

“I didn’t know what I’d do next, what more I could do to not just inspire other people, but myself. Nothing worked. I lay on this couch, _wanting_ it all back, but I didn’t know how to go about it. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to anymore.” He glanced at Yuuri, who listened, transfixed, and went on, “After all, skating brought me fame and success. It made people love me.” He gave a bitter laugh and shook his head, his eyes far away. “No, not me. They loved Russia’s National Hero. They had no clue who I was, and sometimes I didn’t either.”

Yuuri gave in to the urge to take Victor’s hand between his, gently squeezing his cold fingers and wishing the other would squeeze back. “Oh, Victor…”

The Russian’s gaze fell on him, focused for the first time in hours, and said, “I was certain of two things: one, Makkachin was quite possibly the only being who loved me unconditionally, and two, meeting you in Sochi made me realize what I _could_ have in terms of life and love.”

Of course. Sochi, where Victor had really set eyes on him for the first time and regained the shimmer in his eyes, and Yuuri couldn’t remember a _thing_ about it. Still, this was the first time that hearing about it didn’t make Yuuri blush with embarrassment, but rather with awe that somehow he’d been able to let such feelings bloom in Victor’s heart again. “Do you still feel like you don’t know who you are?”

Victor shook his head. “Not anymore. At least not all the time.” He finally squeezed Yuuri’s fingers back and reached over with his free hand to stroke Yuuri’s cheek, absentmindedly giving his earlobe a gentle tug. “You don’t let me forget who I am, Yuuri. I think…I think it’s loneliness.”

“You feel lonely?” Yuuri asked, confused. They were so rarely apart from each other nowadays.

“No. Not that. I used to and…I’m afraid of it happening again.” His grip on Yuuri’s hand became shaky and he stared at him entreatingly, eyes raking over Yuuri’s face as if he were memorizing him. “I don’t want to feel alone and untouchable anymore, Yuuri. Worst of all I feel like I don’t deserve you, and one day you’ll come to realize that and jump on the first plane back to Japan and I’ll never get to touch you or see you again…”

Yuuri surged forward to wrap his arms around Victor, eyes shut tight as his tears threatened to choke him. “I won’t. I _won’t_ Victor!” he insisted, muffling his trembling voice in Victor’s shoulder. His confession had brought back so many of Yuuri’s old terrors, months of wondering when he’d do something to drive his coach away. He sniffled and drew away to look at Victor, not caring if he looked tearful. “I don’t want to lose you either! Do you have any idea how much the thought of it terrifies me? All last year I wanted for time to just stop. Anything so we could stay together a while longer. I knew it was temporary, I’d _convinced_ myself that you’d move on once I either won or let you down.” Yuuri quickly wiped at his eyes, irritation seeping through the myriad of feelings as his glasses smudged. “I wanted the gold medal. I wanted everyone at the Grand Prix Final to see what you and I made together, but I…I was so scared of it ending, no matter what I said to you in the hotel. I was so terrified to go back to the kiss-and-cry after my free skate because…for a second I thought I’d wake up from the most amazing dream I’d ever have.”

Victor’s eyes watered as he let his hands settle on Yuuri’s back, voice shaky as he said, “I was terrified too. I didn’t want to leave your side, not when you were the only person to ever tell me it was fine to be myself. I loved you for that. So much.” His eyes shone and Yuuri’s heart fluttered at the sight of it. “You’re here with me. You’re in my bed. You hold me like this. I get to look at you and hear you every day. I honestly thought I’d never feel like this again. I’m still so afraid and…I don’t know what to do to stop it…”

Yuuri drew Victor closer, letting the man lay his forehead on his shoulder as he ran his hands in slow circles over his shaking back as he steadied his own breathing. Astonishing how a year ago he would not have pictured himself comforting Victor like this, feeling confident enough to kiss the spot behind his ear, keeping his lips pressing against it for several moments until he felt Victor relax against him. His Victor, the one only he got to see, in good or bad.

He drew Victor’s face up and saw no heaviness, but still the same tiredness. It was the reverse of Beijing, save for the terrifying pressure of the upcoming performance. And like Victor had, Yuuri drew him close for a gentle kiss, tasting the salt of their tears. He didn’t push any farther than that, choosing to comfort with lingering touches that he’d come to learn Victor loved.

The Russian’s face was only slightly tear-swollen, and the man looked good even when he cried, damn it. Yuuri could only hope he looked presentable, but maybe after washing their faces they’d look decent enough to go outside without attracting much attention (beyond what they got courtesy of Victor’s stunning looks). “Let’s take Makka out. We’ll think about dinner on the way,” Yuuri offered. It was a small step, but Victor usually loved their walks.

Victor thought about it for a moment and gave Yuuri a small nod. “Alright.”

A little after a half-hour later they were still out, catching the last bit of sun as they made their way back to the apartment, Makkachin happily tugging them along as they walked in comfortable silence. Yuuri waited apart as Makkachin did his business and gave a start when his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Mila.

 

**Mila:**

**Hi Yuuri! Georgi’s treating everyone to lunch tomorrow. He says he wants us to meet his new girlfriend! Do you think you and Vitya will join us?**

 

Well that was sweet of Georgi. Yuuri glanced up at Victor, who stared idly at the passing traffic, and quickly typed a reply.

 

_Hi, Mila! Thanks for letting me know. It’ll have to be a maybe until tomorrow at least._

 

 **Mila:**

**No problem :) It’s at the same place we went to after the GPF last year. Victor should know. It was his gold we were celebrating after all! Take care of yourself and say hi to him and Makka for me! <3**

 

_I will. And thanks again!_

 

“Everything alright?”

Yuuri looked up in mild surprise at seeing Victor standing in front of him. He knew all too well what it felt to not want to subject himself to the rest of the world, even if the invitation was a welcome one. Maybe seeing everyone outside of the rink would help. “We don’t _have_ to go, but Mila says Georgi’s inviting us all to lunch so we can meet his girlfriend tomorrow. I can tell her no if you’re not up to it.”

Victor gave a tiny smile. At least it wasn’t one of his more plastic ones. “If you want to go, let’s join them. Where will it be?”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asked, thumbs hovering over the screen.

“Georgi seems very excited about this girl,” Victor replied, barely noticing as Makkachin tried tugging him along. “And it’ll be nice to help her feel welcome around us. I’m up for it if you are, Yuuri.”

Yuuri let out a little sigh of relief at the sign of light enthusiasm. “Um, Mila said it’s at the restaurant where you all went to after you won gold at Sochi.”

Chuckling at Makkachin’s continued insistence, Victor managed to say, “Perfect. The food’s fantastic. You’ll love it.”

With that Yuuri speedily gave Mila a reply.

 

_We’ll see you at lunch tomorrow!_

 

 **Mila:**

**YAY!! :D**

 

Back at the apartment Victor’s mood seemed to shift slightly, and he knelt to give Makkachin a long scratch behind his ears as the dog panted happily. “Good Makka,” Victor murmured tenderly.

As they moved around the kitchen to get everything ready for dinner, Yuuri could feel Victor’s eyes frantically searching for him, and his heart ached at the thought of Victor being so afraid of losing him. An idea came to him and he quickly retrieved his phone, putting his music player on shuffle and smiling when a familiar song began to play, filling the apartment with a tantalizing waltz.

Victor seemed to recognize it, brows rising in surprise and his hips swaying slightly to the melody. “’Vision of Salome’, right?” he asked Yuuri, curiosity shining in his blue eyes.

Yuuri nodded, his own body recalling what it felt to skate and dance as the music played. “I skated this when I was twenty. I really liked that program.” He closed his eyes and remembered how carefree he felt, moving across the ice while projecting playfulness and allure, or at least trying to. Once the piece ended and switched to something from the 90’s Yuuri noticed there was far less tension in the atmosphere.

They sat across from each other, chatting idly as they ate and Yuuri glancing up every now and then to gauge the sincerity of Victor’s smiles. While they didn’t exactly reach his eyes, at least they didn’t look forced. “Do you think Yurio’s going to pass up this chance to get free food?” he asked with a soft laugh.

“Not a chance,” Victor immediately answered. “It’ll be just like when your mother served him his first pork cutlet bowl, you’ll see.”

It wasn’t exactly perfect. Yuuri did see Victor waver, the light leaving his eyes for a few moments as he stared at the floor or barely gave Yuuri a one syllable answer. The music kept playing, revealing just how broad Yuuri’s taste in music was, something Victor had repeatedly told him he loved about him. They finished up and washed the dishes before moving on to the living room and turning on the news, which Yuuri knew they would barely pay much attention to.

Yuuri was mouthing along, getting used to the strange words and accent in his mouth, when Victor looked up from his phone and exclaimed, “Yuuri, look! I found you!”

He drew Yuuri’s attention to a decent-quality video of Yuuri’s ‘Salome’ program from four years before, and Yuuri groaned in slight protest. “I was such a kid back then.”

Victor was having none of it, eyes firmly glued to the screen as he watched Yuuri skate in the video. In spite of how much he’d grown in the passing years, Yuuri was proud of the program, and his heart soared when Victor breathed, “This is so beautiful.”

He let Victor keep watching the various uploads filmed from different angles as they sat quietly, his head resting on Yuuri’s shoulder as the younger man trailed his fingers through silver hair.

Minutes later Victor disentangled himself and got up from the couch with a stretch, Yuuri hearing a muted pop coming from his back. “I’m getting ready for bed,” he said, reaching over to let his fingers trail across Yuuri’s jaw before making his way to the bathroom.

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Yuuri called over his shoulder, skin tingling where Victor had touched him. He undertook his own search for the 'Salome' program, wanting to recognize his achievement rather than his failure for once. He looked at the intense focus on his younger self’s face, and the thought of going back in time to tell that ambitious boy that he was going to be just fine, even if he found himself wanting to quit the sport at times.

Later on he heard Victor finish up his shower and make his way to the bedroom, and Yuuri took his turn in the shower for a quick wash. Dry, dressed, and his teeth brushed, Yuuri entered the bedroom to find Victor curled up on his side beneath the blanket, facing away from the door. Makkachin lay dutifully at Victor’s feet, fast asleep.

Yuuri took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand before carefully settling behind Victor, who turned and gave him a tired smile. “How are you?” the younger man asked quietly.

Victor closed his eyes and sighed, but it didn’t sound defeated. “Just tired,” he replied.

“Can I hold you?” Yuuri ventured, recalling all the times Victor held him securely to his chest, reassuring him that he _was_ strong.

“Of course you can,” Victor answered.

Yuuri wrapped his arm a little too eagerly around Victor’s waist, hand settling over his chest as he brought his other arm beneath Victor’s head, his other hand cupping the top of it. Both hands stroked gently and Yuuri buried his face in the back of Victor’s neck, silver hairs tickling his nose as he listened to the man’s breathing hitch in surprise.

Then he felt Victor relax in his arms, his breaths steady and deep as Yuuri held him close and secure. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Yuuri kissed his neck, aware of the tight press of his chest against Victor’s back. “I’m not going anywhere. Okay?” he said softly. “I love you. And I do mean _you_ , with your thinning hair, huge forehead, and your obsession with dogs."

Victor’s hand touched the top of his on his chest, following the slow and steady movement. “I love you too. You, your hands, your legs…Your soft tummy.”

Yuuri smiled against Victor’s skin, recalling mornings when he woke to find the elder nuzzling against the softer and pliant parts of his belly with a contented smile. It had fallen to its usual off-season pudginess with the barest hints of Yuuri’s core strength, and it wouldn’t be toned flat until the season drew nearer and both skaters would start to triple their efforts in preparation. Still, it was nice to wake to the sight and sound of Victor murmuring endearments into his soft flesh, lips brushing along the various stretch marks.

He kept moving his hands along Victor’s front and head, wanting to soothe with his own steady breaths and the security of their bodies joined together like this. He didn’t know which of them fell asleep first, but Yuuri barely cared as he kept himself pressed against Victor’s back.

-

His phone alarm was an obnoxious asshole that needed to go die in a hole, but Yuuri had made a commitment, damn it, and he had to make it through the dreaded morning to fulfill it.

He found himself still pressed close against Victor and grinned, thinking that maybe the morning wouldn’t be too bad if he got to woke up practically attached to the man he loved.

He carefully drew his arm out from underneath Victor’s head and turned the stupid alarm off before bending down to kiss along the forehead the Russian so lamented for its wideness. Yuuri loved it enough for both of them. He watched Victor’s eyes slowly come open and smiled at the brightness within them.  “Good morning.”

Victor beamed up at him and pulled him back into his arms, Yuuri laughing breathlessly as the Russian practically crushed them back together. Victor looked up at him, wonder flooding his gaze, and breathed, “I still can’t believe you’re actually here.” 

Yuuri was about to reply when a sharp woof warned him of impending doom before Makkachin jumped onto Yuuri’s back and effectively trapped him between the dog and Victor, the two men’s faces pressed together cheek to cheek. Yuuri, getting crushed _again_ , muttered in a monotone, “ _Now_ do you believe it?!”

Victor merely smiled and said dreamily, “Suffocated beneath the two great loves of my life! What a way to die!”

Coaxing Makkachin off of them and sitting up, Yuuri scolded, “You can’t die! We’re meeting Georgi’s girlfriend today!”

“You’re absolutely right, my star,” Victor declared as he leapt out of bed and patted his thigh. “Come on, Makkachin. Let’s get breakfast started!”

Yuuri ran his hands through his hair and retrieved his glasses in time to watch Victor leave the room with a bounce in his step that had been absent the day before. He smiled with relief and love, mornings suddenly seeming effortless.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: **aeriamamaduck**


End file.
